


The Best Kinds of Mistakes

by winterda



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, F/M, Gen, Mystery Trio, Mystery Twins, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8492314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterda/pseuds/winterda
Summary: In the summer of 1982, Dipper and Mabel's mother sends them to stay with their scientist uncle who they haven't seen they were toddlers when he left for college.  Ford's a little busy to be dealing with his brother's children, and he was determined not to pick up after Stan anymore.





	

“You don't have to do this.”

Ford had lost track of how many times he had said those six words in the past few days, but he knew that this would be the last time. In ten minutes, this would be all over and done with, so this was the last chance for him to try and get the idea that there were other options opened to them other than this rather drastic one. Maybe not great ones, or even ones that any of them liked, but at least they were there. 

Of course, if Stanley was good at decision making, then he wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

Stan glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably in the pale pastel tux that he had reserved a month ago for their upcoming Junior Prom. The tux rental place had been good enough to let him go ahead and use it for this occasion, since the dance was no longer an option. It was odd to think that just two weeks ago that that was the only thing his brother could really think of beyond working on the Stan O' War and what he was going to be doing on Saturday night. Everything from then just feels so small as compared to...all of this.

“You keep saying that,” Stan muttered.

“That's because you don't,” Ford said and resisted the urge to run his hands through his hair because he would just tear some of it out. “You have options. You could–”

“What? Run away? Go on with my life and pretend none of this ever happened?” Stanley sighed and dropped his shoulders in a way that told Ford that he had considered it. A part of him still might be if the way he was glancing down the hall to the exit was any indication. Then he drew in a deep breath like he always did right before a big match, squared his shoulders, and focused all his attention on the door in front of them. “I can't do that to her, Sixer.”

And there it was. That stubborn tone that told Ford that Stanley wasn't going to be swayed by any of his logical arguments. The decision was made and there was no talking him out of it. 

Ford's shoulders dropped lower as he let out a long sigh, as if the air had been the only thing holding them up in the first place. Why did his brother have to be so damn stubborn?

“Besides,” Stanley said after a moment of awkward silence, “Pop really would kill me if I did.”

Ford began to say something – what exactly, he wasn't sure – when the door in front of them finally opened. Their father stood on the other side. Instinctively, both boys (and they were boys because their seventeenth birthday wasn't even for another three months) straightened their backs and shoulders. Their father's frown was tight as ever, and Ford got the distinct feeling that he was glaring at them from the other side of those sunglasses that he always insisted on wearing, even indoors. It made bargaining with a customer in the store easier since they couldn't see his tells, but there was something fundamentally wrong with the fact that neither Ford nor Stanley could pick their father out of lineup if he wasn't wearing them.

“It's time,” he said as he took a step back to let them enter. 

Lifting his chin, Stanley went forward with all the false confidence and determination he could muster. Ford didn't want to think to closely on why he was suddenly being reminded of the scene in the book he read last summer with Jarvet at the Seine. This was no where near the same except for the fact that his brother and the character were both to stubborn to even try and see another way around the choice they made. 

Taking his place next to his brother, Ford tried to ignore the tension in the room. Their father took went back to stand by their mother in the front row and impatiently crossed his arms. He'd almost seem bored by the whole thing, if it weren't for the steady line of attention he was holding on Stan: like his gaze was the only thing pinning Stan in place, and he was refusing to let go until this was all over. Their mother offered up a kind smile of reassurance, but Sandra Pines was a professional liar that both boys had learned to not fully trust what she said a long time ago. 

Besides, it was hard to pretend that everything would be okay when gross, ugly sobs of heartbreak was echoing loudly around them.

No one was happy about any of this, but a mistake had been made and this was the only way that they saw to fix it. Not necessary because it was the right thing or even the smart thing, but _it was just what was done_ in a situation like this. Ford thought it was incredibly stupid and shortsighted, but who listened to a teenage know-it-all when the adults and parties involved had already agreed on it? Even if everyone hated it.

Stan stiffened when the second set of doors opened and music filled the air. It was supposed to add something to the occasion, made it a bit more magical or some such nonsense, but every note felt flat and forced and did nothing to lift the spirits of anyone. An executioners cadence probably would have been more appropriate, but even so, Ford didn't think that it would have been appreciated. 

Holding onto the arm of her father, Carla was slowly coming towards Stanley. The snarling look on the older man's face was enough to make Ford wince, but Stan refuse to wilt. Filbert Pines was one of the only people who could make his brother cower in any sort of fashion, so an angry father did little to crack Stan's resolve. Carla's sobbing mother was doing a better job of it, but there was nothing to be done about that. What's done is done, and now they were paying the cost.

Even more so in about in about five months, if the doctor's calculations were correct. Judging by the way that the overly layered dress was failing to hide the slight bulge of her stomach, that was probably right.

Places were taken and the ceremony began and the priest – because Carla was Lutheran and Stanley hadn't cared enough to think of asking for a Rabbi – began to speak, but all Ford could think of was how heavy the ring he had to give to his brother soon felt in his pocket. He had never wanted to be part of this farce, but when Stan had asked him to be his best man, how could he say no? But watching his brother throw his whole life away over a mistake was the hardest thing he had had to do yet in his young life. 

They were too young. They were just kids themselves. They shouldn't be doing this because it was just going to end in disaster no matter how hard nosed their father was about “you knocked that girl up, you're going to do the right thing.” Nothing but heartbreak was going to come of this, and Ford couldn't understand why no one but him seem to understand that.

“The ring?”

Ford blinked when he realized that the attention of the entire wedding party had turned to him. For a moment, he considered refusing to hand it over. To taking a stand and making one last ditch effort to save his brother. He could feel his father's heated stare switch from Stanley to him, but he was determined to hold firm in this childish thought that if he didn't hand it over then they would have to call this whole thing off. 

“Ford,” Stan said, and he felt his resolve crumble.

Damn it. 

Grabbing the ring from his pocket, Ford handed it over and then closed his eyes. He couldn't watch this. Wouldn't watch this. Funny, he could sit through Stan's most violent boxing matches, but he couldn't watch him say a few words and slip a ring onto a girl's hand. 

Before he knew it, it was over and the sixteen-year-old bride and groom were walking away into whatever doomed future that was in store for them. Ford only knew a few tidbits of what waiting them. Stan had already dropped out of school so that he could start working on the docks that his new father-in-law was a supervisor for, and Carla was getting her GED while waiting tables at one of the cafes down by the boardwalk. Carla's father had called in a favor and found them a small apartment that they could only just afford, but they couldn't move into it until after the first. In the meantime, they'd be staying with her parents. After that, Ford didn't know, and his father didn't seem to care because Stanley was on his own now. He wasn't ever coming back home wasn't ever directly said, but it wasn't hard to guess what an empty half of a room meant. 

Rubbing his hands over his face, Ford tried not to think to much on everything that had just happened or everything that was to come from it, but it was hard not to. He might not be the most perceptive person in the world when it came to people, but Ford was smart enough to know a bad situation when he saw one. This was one of them. There was now way around it. 

He just hoped for everyone's sake that, just this once, he was wrong. 

But that was the burden of being a genius. 

You rarely were.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, take a guess who the kid(s) are going to be. Just a random thing that popped into my head. Not really meant for much other than writing practice. We'll see how it goes, though. This isn't beta'ed at this point either, so please excuse the typos. 
> 
> Edited to add: Yeah, this is going a little different than I meant, so I edited the summary and tags a bit. And, yes, I know that Ford was suppose to have disappeared in like January of 82, but I'm pushing the timeline around a bit. We'll see how it goes.


End file.
